Cream | By : ElectricAndroid Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1890 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: Cream
Author: electricandroid
Length: 4,700 odd words
Pairing: SS/RL
Rating: R/NC-17
Warning: Food fetish
A/N: Many Thanks to icarusancalion,
rikibeth, kaylbunny
and saladbats
for their brilliant and unstinting beta work.
Dumbledore reached across the table, and brought his wand down on Severus'
knuckles.
"Enough, Severus." For once, the twinkle was not in evidence.
"Do you really want to do this to yourself?"
The table was silenced in anticipation.
"Put the biscuit down, Severus. Can you not see what it is doing to
you?"
You could have heard a pin drop in Trelawney's tower.
Severus' tongue darted out, the sick red of a strawberry. Teeth crushed around
the biscuit, and the hasty bobbing of his Adam's apple showed that it had
reached its final destination. A chair scraped back, the floor tiles
screeching. As Severus left the hall, a button popped off his robes, not the
first by the look of things. It rolled to a standstill in front of Remus.
Contemplatively, he picked it up. "I'll just go along and return this,
shall I?"
He fled the room without a backwards glance, blushing furiously.
~*~
Remus remembered the first time he had seen Severus after returning to Hogwarts.
It was at breakfast, when a stained hand had reached across his plate, reaching
for the cream. He had stared at the hand, mapping each vein, scar, and wrinkle,
but the net result was the same. He slid the jug over to those fingers, careful
not to make eye-contact; it was not as if Severus Snape was ever in the mood
for common pleasantries from Remus. In his trance, Remus tipped the jug
over, onto the table cloth, onto Severus' grasping hand.
"Merlin, Lupin! It is merely a jug of cream. Can you do nothing
right?" Severus stood and made his way out of the room, wiping cream off
his fingers.
Now succulent was not a word often applied to Severus Snape. Sparse was, sparse
and straight, lean and lofty. It was… odd. One would have to look past their
usual impression of Snape. The impression Remus had grown up with of a long,
lanky boy. There was now a certain roundness that had not been there before, a
slight curve where there was once a plane. Almost...delicious.
Remus jolted himself back to reality. Musings on the state of Severus' body?
What on earth was he coming to? Firstly, he had never seen Snape with any man.
He might be heterosexual for all he knew.
A traitorous voice piped up in his skull. 'Well, you have not seen him with a
girl, either.'
Granted, granted. He had not seen Snape with either. Maybe Snape was asexual,
maybe Snape had secret assignations with Dumbledore every fortnight where they
cavorted naked with the centaurs. Covered in rose petals. Maybe Snape was just
not interested in anything outside that cavern of a laboratory. No. He must
cease this line of thought at once! No matter where his mind wished to stray.
It was just a passing fad, a phase. Nothing to get himself worked up about. Not
at all. Some chocolate, a nice cup of tea, and all would be well.
Remus wandered back to his quarters, careful to keep his mind off Snape. And
off teas. Cream or otherwise.
~*~
After a month, one would have thought that Remus would have put the whole thing
behind him. That any phase where he fancied himself and Sev-, no, Snape -
together would have long passed. It had not. Remus found himself eyeing Severus
every opportunity he could, watching the subtle blurring of such familiar
lines. One would have hardly noticed it, if one were not looking for the
tell-tale strain on the seams, the more cautious walk.
The view of that arse.. To Remus' mind, it was an obsession which was
spiraling out of control.
Sitting in his room, Remus sought a reason. tea poured, one cube of sugar.
All he had to do was find the one, categorical reason that he was so
fascinated. stir, thrice clockwise, thrice anti-clockwise, be sure not to
drip tea on the tabletop. Normal,
he was not. A werewolf. drop of milk. What could a werewolf want with
such a succulent man?
Remus sipped the tea, his mind running wild. 'Prey, no – not prey. There
is that element of, not domination, more… appreciation. But appreciation of
someone letting themselves go?’ It seemed, odd. Perhaps that was the answer,
the sheer oddness of it. Maybe over time it would become normal.
He shook his head. That was close, but not it exactly. If after a month it was
still not normal, still caused such complete fascination, it was something more
than a mere phase. No matter how he might not want to admit it.
~*~
After Christmas, Remus could lie to himself no longer. There was a deep-seated
desire to watch Snape lose control, a desire which could be sated by watching
Snape at meals, through the corridors, between classes. Remus found himself
leaving lunch early, to fumble his trousers down in his quarters and think of
the contours of Snape's body, so different from his own emaciated planes.
Perverse, maybe, and quite possibly sickeningly disgusting to anyone but
himself. Remus doubted that a fat middle age man should have him gasping for
breath so often.
He hoped he was not being obvious, and yet knew that he was. Snape’s
half-lidded eyes caught his on occasion, and Remus knew that Severus' curiosity
was piqued. No, he must pull himself over this, must focus.
Teaching, teaching the children.
And thinking about Severus, in the shower, at night.
~*~
The corridor was long, as Remus strode, twirling the button between his
fingertips. What had happened since the beginning of the year? What had
happened to Snape to have even Dumbledore asking him to control himself? And
yet, it was not a lack of control, but rather a studious application of a
prodigious intellect to a task so odd that Remus dare not even voice it in his
own head. Severus Snape seemed intent on becoming fat. And Remus Lupin did not
have the slightest idea why.
~*~
It had been a progression of shirts pulling taut, of buttons straining and
collars tightening. The few extremities that could be seen, fingers and jowls,
growing. Hasty hands grabbing at the pudding bowl, and that disapproving mouth
masticating between classes, in the halls. Anywhere besides his beloved
potion's laboratory. There was something smoothly sensuous about that
mouth when occupied in ways other than those infernal retorts. And those black
eyes lighting up with a gourmand's pleasure. The spark from a maraschino cherry
seemed to last the longest, though the sinful delights of a black
forest torte would stick around the edges of his eyes for hours on end.
Remus had made this study of Snape a hobby. Almost, one could say, an
obsession. He now knew the foods that the man tolerated, those that the man
liked. Those that disgusted him, and those that he adored. He knew how much,
and when, the various delicacies would best be appreciated. He took vicarious
pleasure in each slide of that tongue. Pleasure with no risk. Perfect. Severus
need never know.
~*~
The staircase down to the dungeon needed a clean. Dust rubbed off on Remus'
robe, and cobwebs caught in its hem. House elves did not often come down here,
though he could see the cleaning cloth one intrepid soul left behind on the
floor. Severus surely must have heard him making a ruckus. In his heart of
hearts, Remus was glad. At least there would be no one around to witness his
humiliation. He wished he had brought a plate of biscuits, or half a pint of
custard with him. Though what Snape would think of this tribute, he could only
guess. Probably something offensive; Remus knew the bastard well.
"Lupin, what in Merlin's name brought you down here?"
"You dropped this." The button fell out of Remus' fingers and onto
the floor.
"Really, I did not notice." Severus eyed the button. "And you
came all the way down here to do your good deed for the day, did you,
Lupin?" Snape leaned forwards, and a tearing sound was heard. "Well,
consider it done." Severus turned back into his room, a flush gracing his
cheeks.
"Severus. The button." It was a split seam, no doubt. There had been
bets in the staff room on when this would happen. Remus knew that he could not
tell them, much as they would want him too. Much as they might pay.
"Thank you." Snape snatched the button from Remus' outstretched
hand. "I trust that will be all?"
Remus raised his head and made eye-contact with Severus. The blush was underlain
by a smile. Typical Severus. Most people would react badly to having their
robes rip. And yet, Severus seemed to enjoy it. Remus was stymied. It surely
was not typical behaviour. Even from Snape.
Remus stared wordlessly at Snape.
"Do stop gaping, Lupin. One would almost think you had a purpose other
than that totally gormless stare spread across your face."
"Yes, um, Severus. Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Lupin. These are my quarters. If I wish for a cup of tea, I will take a
few steps into the kitchen, and make myself one." Worry crossed Snape’s
features. "Are you sure you are well? How did you react to the last batch
of wolfsbane?"
Remus started. At long last, an opportunity. "Not very well,
Severus. Would you like me to tell you about my reactions?"
Severus eyed him speculatively. "If you must. Make yourself at home while
I change out of this disaster." He eyed his robes, grimacing at the tear.
"I will only be a minute."
Remus eyed the room. It was, for lack of a better word, comfortable. He
found it vaguely disconcerting that this room was quite like his own. Worn
rugs, threadbare carpentry, and for some reason, a pile of cushions in the
corner. There were stacks of silverware piled up against the wall, and the
reflections of a few dozen distorted Remus’s peered back out at him. All in
all, a typical teacher's quarters, if slightly messy.
After a few minutes, Snape returned.
"A nightcap, werewolf? Or some of that tea?"
Remus started back from the plates, embarrassed to have been caught snooping.
"Um, whatever you are having, Severus."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Really." He poured two double firewhiskeys,
and handed one to Remus. "Take a seat, werewolf. And tell me about your
potion."
Sitting down on a stool, Remus blanked. Potion. "Um.. well." He
coloured, his gold eyes dropping to the floor. "It didn't work as well as
usual."
Didn't work as well as usual?" Sarcasm dripped from every
word. "And pray, tell me, werewolf what was the real reason you
came down here? To make fun of me? To enjoy the humiliation that your erstwhile
rival is suffering. I'll tell you something, you mangy cur, I suffer nothing
that I do not wish to inflict upon myself!"
Snape sat down, opposite Remus, breathless.
"Actually…" Remus let the sentence trail off. He gulped the
double firewhiskey, and held his glass out for more. Nothing like a
little Dutch courage.
Wordlessly, Snape filled the glass, his distorted reflection leering at Remus
from the various piles of flatware and cutlery. Remus downed it in a gulp once
more. He was warmer now, and the world was blurring slightly at the edges.
Brilliant.
"Actually, I was wondering about that. You see, knowing you, you have just
so much control. And then – this." Remus' gesture encompassed all of
Snape, the room, the piles of crockery.
"So you want to know if I am under some sort of spell then,
werewolf? Want to do your good deed of the day by saving the evil death
eater from his supper? Forgive me, I am not overly impressed."
Remus focused his attention on the floor once more. "Actually, I would
like to know why you enjoy it." He risked moving his eyes upwards,
connecting with Severus' for the first time since the whiskey suffused his
senses.
Snape looked away, colouring. "I think another nightcap is in
order." He poured a triple for himself, and a double for
Remus. "After all, you did take so much trouble to bring me
this bauble."
Remus saw a hand fall down the sweep of Severus’ robes, fingers lightly
pressing between each overstressed button.
"So, Wolf. I presume that you have some interest rather than the purely
intellectual? Would you care to watch?"
Remus nodded in mute appeal.
"Then follow me." Severus led the way through to an adjoining room,
which would have put to shame all but the most exclusive of eateries.
Plates piled high, levitated one on top of the other, each exuding its own
particular appeal. Silverware flashed its pointed talons; drifts of cushions
placed up against the walls. The ante-room, the sitting room, was merely a
foretaste of this hedonist's lair. It was as sumptuous as Severus had become,
beckoning to Remus in that same strange way.
"Sit, werewolf. I shall commence shortly. I expect you to tire, so the
door is to your back. And do not disturb me. Mayhap some manners? Something
that your kind lacks."
"I was raised by my parents, not found in the wild, Severus." He
could feel his hackles rising. "If you do not want me here, I will
leave."
"But it gives me such delight. Such delight to watch you each day. I have
enjoyed watching you, werewolf. I have enjoyed watching you watch me."
"W...w…watching me watch you? Whatever do you mean, Severus?" Panic,
trapped, Remus could feel his fingers digging into the chair. He wanted
to leave, but that glimmer of promise in Severus' eye held him steady.
"Go, stay. It is all the same to me. But think about your curiosity.
It will never be satisfied."
"Alright then, Severus. I'll stay." He tried to keep the quaver out
of his voice.
Snape settled into a pillow of down in front of him. "I find it more
comfortable this way, I can just drift off to sleep. Afterwards."
Severus had the grace to look shamefaced. Picking up a pastry, he commenced.
Remus followed every bite with his eyes. So that's what
Severus would look like if he kept this up for much longer. He could feel his
trousers tenting, warm and hard, and he squirmed in his chair. That control,
that power. Months of thought being pulled to the fore, his fantasy taking
place right in front of him.
"Uncomfortable, are you Lupin? Is it the heat?"
Now he knew that Severus was toying with him, but his fascination with that
sultry mouth, those syrupy-sounding words kept his breath at bay. Yes,
Severus certainly knew about his obsession.
"It is rather close down here, Severus. Would you mind opening a
window?"
A flick of a wand and an icy breeze later, Remus felt the cold air on his
cheek.
"Forgive me for not standing, Lupin, I must conserve my
energies."
Remus could feel his pulse throbbing in his neck, his groin. He licked his
lips, unconsciously mimicking each bite; his hands clutching onto the arms on
the chair. He could feel the rough wood grain, and the sharp bite of a
splinter.
"After all, you would not want me to waste away." The gleam in
Severus’ eyes was unmistakable – toying with a werewolf, how bizarre.
The blood pooled in Remus' cock. Snape was making light of the situation, Snape
wanted this, wanted to be like this. Remus moistened his lips once more. The
whys and wherefores could be left for later, but right now, all he wanted to do
was oblige the man sprawled in front of him.
"That is true, Severus, you are almost skin and bones." A wicked
gleam lit Remus' eyes. Two can play this game. "It is feeling rather
chilly in here now. Maybe you should close the window again? I’m worry that
your delicate constitution can’t handle it."
With a smirk, Severus waved the window close. The room slowly regained its
former temperature, and Remus could feel a rivulet of sweat trickle down his
back.
"So. Severus, what would you like to talk about?" Remus watched the
other man with yellow eyes.
"Talk? I invited you in here for a medical discussion, Lupin, not a heart
to heart. Which, by the way, you seem incapable of carrying out. Any
further conversation would be… unnecessary? You have already proclaimed your…
intentions."
“A nightcap then? And a conversation?” Remus was not about to let this go
that easily.
“If you wish, though I do recall several shots of firewhiskey being poured down
your gullet not a half hour past.”
“One needs it with the children.”
“Touché.” The corner of Severus’ mouth twitched sardonically. “Though, Lupin,
it is Christmas. Your astute senses must have realised there are less of the
vermin present than normal.”
Remus had the grace to look shamefaced as he gestured to the tray. “Pass me the
bottle, would you?” Clumsily reaching forward, he upended the bottle onto
Severus.
“Lupin.” The drawl drew Remus out of his ogling. “Clean it.”
He bent over to mop it up, the soft press of flesh, the hot pants of breath against
his hand providing more than adequate encouragement. "I apologize Severus.
I hardly meant to spill it. It must be the potion, clumsy of me, I’m sure.”
Remus felt Severus’ pulse quicken beneath his fingers. He started to undo the
scratchy robe, one button at a time. "We really ought to get you out of
these wet clothes, Severus. The window…” His voice trailed off.
“It is shut, Lupin. You expressly requested it. Should I add memory loss to
your list of ailments? Or is that merely old age?” Snape stifled a grin. “I do
believe you are correct though – I ought to disrobe. These garments do stain
dreadfully, and I do not think I require another set of laboratory
clothes.”
Remus felt a fumble of fingers undoing buttons further down. He risked a look
up, and saw the promise in Severus' eyes. The man seemed to want this as much
as the werewolf did. Without drawing another breath, Remus placed his lips on
Severus’ mouth. He tasted of powdered sugar.
The flick of a tongue between his lips caused Remus to open his mouth.
Sweetness scorched his senses. He toppled to the floor, one knee causing a
plate to splinter, the other shifted on the fallen robe. A soft-Snape-like body
curving outwards to greet him. His hand traced each contour with reverence. The
object of his obsession was in his grasp.
"This under-robe looks damp, Severus." Remus' fingers teased the dry
cloth above Severus' nipples. "You might want to change all your
clothing. One never knows where a little trickle of damp might lead."
Remus punctuated his sentences with flicks of his fingers, feeling Severus'
quick drawn breaths in the reverberations of the flesh beneath his fingertips.
"Shall we go to the bedroom?" A hasty nod, Snape’s chin doubling in
the process, and a salty sheen of sweat glistening in the light was his only
answer.
~*~
Leading Severus to the bed, Remus had ample time to survey the room. This
chamber, at least, was more sedate, the collections of dishes more subtle, the
piles of crockery and cutlery absent. Sweets though, desserts and scones and
petite-fours. All finger foods.
Severus sat on the bed, the springs creaking. Surely they were not
designed to take this load. Shedding himself of his outer robe, Remus knelt
astride Snape.
“We seem to have deviated from the original plan.”
Severus’ voice started Remus out of his stupor. “Snape?”
“Severus, only on sufferance, and only this once. I am in my underwear, as you
can well see.”
“That is not what I meant, Sn-, Severus. What plan?”
“For you to watch me.. indulge myself.” A creeping red covered Severus’ face.
“I believe that that was the agreement.”
“And…” Remus hid a smile, conscious of having the upper hand in this encounter.
“And I do not believe that this..” Severus’ hand swept the room “is conducive
to that in any case.”
“I guess it depends, Severus…” There was no use in hiding the smile now, it had
reached his eyes, and crinkled up the laughter lines.
“On…” The catch in Snape’s voice egged Remus on.
“On if you require another participant, a helping hand.” Remus paused, watching
Snape’s breathing accelerate as he realised the ramifications of this decision.
“Your choice, Professor.” Remus ran his hand over Snape’s nightshirt,
twisting a finger around his nipple. He saw Snape stifle a moan, his lip near
white where Severus bit down on it. “I’ll take that as a yes. So tell me,
Severus. What would you like first?”
A glance down toward Remus’ crotch was all the encouragement required. Lying
him down on the bed, a plate of pastries to hand, Remus commenced.
~*~
Those flying hands were everywhere, pushing and squishing, massaging and
tweaking until Snape could no longer feel anything but the indelible suddenness
of each instant, and the soft slide of food down his throat. Heavenly. He could
feel the press of a soft finger against his opening, the warm wrap of a mouth
around his cock. He could feel the pressure building, could feel each scrape
and press as the werewolf's fingers neared his prostate. It was building,
building too fast for him to hold back, for him to do anything more than keep
on stuffing himself brimful of pastries and cream. And then that finger reached
its destination, and with one last press Severus felt himself explode into a
thousand pieces. Pumping, as cream smeared slowly by his hand, as Remus' busy
fingers kept on pressing and his mouth kept on sucking. Snape was
drained, so full and so empty. His eyes glazed over.
~*~
Remus waited until all was done, then removed both his fingers and his
mouth from Severus. He saw the sheen over Severus' eyes, saw his mouth hanging
partly agape. He watch the ripples as the man heaved himself upwards, a play of
rolls and tires. Remus knelt besides Severus, his cock almost purple now, and
throbbing. He stroked a fingertip across the creamy jowls, the sugary chest,
and then licked it.
The question, though unvoiced was obvious. Snape turned onto his front, his
lilywhite arse spread wide before Remus. Remus pulled a hand over, grasping one
soft pec in each hand, pinching the nipples as he plunged into Severus.
Remus pushed forwards, the soft cushioning preventing his hipbones crashing,
bruising. He could feel Severus push back with each thrust, could feel the last
dribbles of come on his thigh as he hit Severus’ prostate time and time again.
The man beneath him was moaning, and Remus ran his hands over the acres of
flesh he could grip on. So much, so very much, and it was all his. At
this thought his vision blanked out, and with one final push he came; lying
across Severus' back, panting, and stroking the quaking body beneath him.
“That was… adequate. Thank you.”
Remus fell asleep with a smile on his face.
~*~
The clock struck three as Remus pulled the counterpane up over them.
"You might catch your death of cold." He whispered, echoing
conversations past.
He felt the Severus move slightly. Awake, then. And probably rather affronted.
Remus sat up, legs over the bed, ready to leave. A hand shot out and circled
his wrist.
"Then stay, werewolf. I must make do with what I can."
They settled down next to each other, silent. Then, on the cusp of sleep, Remus
turned to Snape, and asked a single question. "Why?"
The pause felt infinite, and Remus was cursing himself for being a thousand
types of fool as he resigned himself to no reply.
"Because I want to, because I can. Because I like the feeling, and seeing
how those cretins react."
They lay in silence for a while longer. Just as Remus was dozing off he heard
one last caveat.
"And because you like it."
~*~
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